"You are very lucky, Raven." Stanley turned to Raiden as he sat watching him shadowbox, sweat pouring down his bare chest and flinging droplets with every strike.
"Seems your key held no value to them. When you were teleported, the key was still on your chest—I did you the honor."
Raiden barely glanced at Stanley, his mind solely occupied with training. The desert wasn't just a place he didn't want to be; it was tormenting. His lips were dry, his stomach rumbled relentlessly, and to make their torture worse, the relentless heat gave way to intense cold at night.
Trapped in the middle of the desert without shelter, it felt like a ticking clock counting down to their death from starvation and cold; if the sand worms didn't devour them first.
